


Picking Up Your Pieces

by Andian



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bad Flirting, Fake AH Crew, Flirting Mistaken For Murder Threats, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24043297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andian/pseuds/Andian
Summary: In which Ryan's flirting could use some work. Or five times Jeremy thought Ryan was threatening to murder him and one time he didn't.
Relationships: Jeremy Dooley/Ryan Haywood
Comments: 5
Kudos: 170
Collections: Id Pro Quo 2020





	Picking Up Your Pieces

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KennyTheKlutz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KennyTheKlutz/gifts).



The Vagabond was scary. Scratch that, Jeremy thought as he watched the Vagabond execute another perfect head shot, the Vagabond was absolutely terrifying.

Next to him the Vagabond reloaded quickly, nimble fingers working confidently around his gun and Jeremy felt heat creep into his cheeks.

Transfixed he watched as the Vagabond raised the gun, stared through the scope and held his breath as his finger bent around the trigger. Jeremy didn’t bother checking to see if he had hit his target. This was the Vagabond. He absolutely had.

“Enjoying the view?”

Startled Jeremy looked up, realizing that the Vagabond had turned towards him, his expression hidden underneath the skull mask.

“Watch out before I get my eyes on you,” the Vagabond said and then immediately leant back down again with his gun, taking another shot.

A cold shudder ran down Jeremy’s spine at the implied threat of the Vagabond wanting to shoot him and he quickly tore his eyes away from the other man, concentrating on his own gun.

The Vagabond was one a scary motherfucker and Jeremy wasn’t that much of an idiot. 

Underneath the fear the memory of the Vagabond’s fingers around his gun however still lingered uncomfortably long.

Months later Jeremy would like to revisit his first impression of the Vagabond. He had become Ryan now, sometime between the river rescue from the burning helicopter and that thing with the zoo.

He had seen the Vagabond laugh for the first time after the penguins and it had done little to extinguish the torch he had somehow started carrying for the man over the last few months.

“If you bring this helicopter down too, I’m going to drown you myself,” Ryan now said.

To Jeremy’s embarrassment, neither had the constant threats of murder.

Ryan leant back in his seat, staring out of the window of the helicopter. Geoff had wanted air support for this negotiation and, after a long moment of silent overthinking, had also decided that having both Jack and Ryan as his bodyguards during this deal might be a bit of an overkill.

Realizing that he’d been silent for way too long, Jeremy cleared his throat.

“You can try, I’m very slippery when I’m wet,” he said awkwardly, cursing himself the moment the words came out of his mouth.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Ryan answered, his eyes now closed. “I can get a very tight grip when I want people in certain … positions.”

Jeremy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It was partly fear, partly something else and he really wasn’t sure which one was better. On one hand being threatened with getting drowned by a coworker did not make for a good work environment. On the other hand neither did being slightly turned on by such threats.

He was occupied enough with those thoughts that he almost missed the other helicopter suddenly appearing behind them.

Almost.

He cursed loudly and Ryan’s eyes snapped open.

“Hold on,” Jeremy said, gritted his teeth and pushed the cyclic stick of the helicopter forward.

“This is going to be ugly.”

Next to him Ryan reached for his machine pistol and the following hours were filled with gun fire, screams and in the end another burning helicopter. But Ryan grinned at him fiercely afterwards, forgoing his usual murder treats and Jeremy felt his heart pounding faster at the sight.

A few weeks later his heart was pounding equally fast, due to completely different reasons though.

“Talk,” the man in front of him growled before his fist connected with Jeremy’s face again. “Talk or this will only get worse for you.”

Instead of an answer Jeremy spat at him, salvia mixed with blood hitting the man in the face. He took a step back, a look of disgust and rage distorting his features. With an angry snarl he pulled Jeremy up by his shirt, Jeremy trying to suppress a wince of pain at the harsh treatment.

It hadn’t just been punches up to this point. The man pulled out the knife from his pocket and Jeremy braced himself.

“Talk,” the man repeated again. “Where are the Fakes hiding? Talk or I’ll carve you up like a Sunday roast.”

“Go and fuck yourself,” Jeremy spat out. Loyalty hadn’t counted for much before he had joined the Fakes. It did now.

He’d have rather gone out in a blaze of glory, maybe saving Ryan or somebody else from the Crew in the process, but he’d take this if it meant keeping this bastard from getting to them.

An ugly smile appeared on the man’s face.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” he said and raised his knife.

“Not as much as I would,” a voice then suddenly said behind him.

The man span around but it was too late. Ryan was quicker. The bat came down and the knife fell out of the man’s hand, the fight, if it could even be called that, lasting merely a few seconds.

Without another look at the man lying on the floor Ryan dropped the bat and slowly walked over to Jeremy who was staring at him in slightly dazed awe, still a bit unsure if he was actually real.

The feeling of Ryan’s hand on his wrist, followed by the coldness of a knife against his skin and the zip ties tying his hands together broke his trance.

“Took you long enough,” he said, his voice rough.

Ryan paused for a moment.

“Be thankful I’m letting you out at all,” he then said, “I rather like having you tied up like this with nowhere to run.”

Jeremy was too tired and in too much pain to deflect the implied threat of bodily harm like he’d usually do.

“You brought reinforcements?” he asked instead. Ryan had finished cutting open the zip ties around his hands and Jeremy rubbed his raw wrists.

“Didn’t need them,” Ryan said and Jeremy thought about the fact that it had been four of them who had kidnapped him in the first place with three others already waiting at whatever hellhole they’d brought him to.

But Ryan’s voice was flat and cold and Jeremy didn’t bother asking any further.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Ryan mumbled, supporting Jeremy who had nearly fallen down after kicking the man lying on the floor between the ribs.

He didn’t let go of him even after Jeremy had managed to control his shaking legs and Jeremy tried and failed to ignore the warm pressure of his hands on his shoulder.

To Jeremy’s surprise Ryan stuck around the time it took Jeremy to recover. The cuts weren’t as bad as they had first looked like though Jeremy had also gotten a broken rib and a sprained wrist out of the deal.

He felt better after two days, got bored after three and was ready to burn his entire apartment down after five days if it meant getting some action.

“Ryan,” he said, absolutely not whining. “I am so fucking bored.”

He dropped the PS4 controller he had been holding on the couch and Ryan, after quickly winning the race, the bastard, did the same.

“The Doc said you need to rest for a few more days,” Ryan said patiently for probably the third time today.

“It’s been almost two weeks!”

“It’s been five days.”

“But…”  
  
Abruptly Ryan stood up from his place on Jeremy’s armchair and slid down on the couch next to him. Jeremy eyed him, slightly suspicious. His suspicion was confirmed when Ryan suddenly pulled a jackknife from his pocket, unfolding it with one swift movement.

“Want to see something cool?” Ryan asked, eyes fixed on Jeremy.

Jeremy swallowed. The smart answer would have been, no. Ryan with a knife, with that expression on his face and completely focused on Jeremy was a bad combination.

“Sure,” slipped out of him instead.

Still not looking away from Jeremy, Ryan balanced the blade of the knife on his palm. Then with a quick twist he flipped it over the back of his hand, catching it in his fist.

“Damn,” Jeremy said, impressed with the trick.

Ryan repeated it again, even quicker this time, Jeremy’s eyes never leaving his hands as he did so.

“Want to try it too?” Ryan then asked. He held the knife out to Jeremy. Hesitantly Jeremy reached for it.

“Hold your hand like this,” Ryan instructed, turning Jeremy’s hand around. His hand felt warm against Jeremy’s.

“And then balance the knife.”

Jeremy’s hands were shaking slightly, something he really hoped Ryan wouldn’t notice. The knife almost fell down during the first attempt, Ryan catching it in time.

“Slow and steady,” Ryan mumbled. He was sitting very close to him, Jeremy thought, slightly dazed. His face was close enough for them to touch.

“And now twist your hand and let it fall over the back of your hand.”

One hand held the knife above Jeremy’s palm, the other moved his hand around, pressing the knife into Jeremy’s hand once it had been turned around.

Ryan’s hand seemed to linger a bit longer during this, his thumb resting lightly across Jeremy’s fingers.

“Uh … thanks,” Jeremy managed after a long pause. He was staring at Ryan, who was looking back at him. There was something in Ryan’s expression Jeremy couldn’t quite decipher. Meanwhile his own mind was yelling at him to do something, _anything_.

“It’s a cool trick,” he added lamely.

“I can show you some more,” Ryan said. His voice was deep and rumbling and it was doing things to Jeremy he couldn’t quite formulate. And judging by the way Ryan was looking at him, maybe that wasn’t incidental.

“Lots of things I can do with you and a knife.”

It was like a cold shower. Jeremy abruptly pulled his hand away from Ryan.

“Thanks, I think I’m good,” he said, turning away and fumbling for his controller. He felt angry. At Ryan, though mostly at himself. Angry that he had actually thought for a moment that this wasn’t other one of Ryan’s weird murder threats. How he had thought they had finally left this bullshit behind them.

Thought maybe Ryan was…

With more force than necessary he pressed the buttons on his controller to restart the game, staring straight ahead at his television.

It didn’t matter what he had thought. He obviously had been wrong.

Next to him Ryan silently returned to the armchair, picking up his own controller. Neither of them said much more that day.

Ryan was sent on a mission the next day, some negotiations regarding deliveries north of the border. Considering he went with Michael, Geoff probably expected the negotiations to go south real quick.

Jeremy was just glad he didn’t have to see him for a few days. His anger had simmered down into embarrassment and disappointment. Geoff gave him a few easy jobs Jeremy took without hesitation, happy for the distraction.

He was observing the shipyard where some idiot had thought it smart to steal from them when he got Gavin’s messages.

“They are back,” read the first one.

And then “Ryan got hurt.”

Jeremy froze. For a moment he just stared at the message. Then instincts kicked in and without even thinking he pulled out of the parking spot and started driving.

Normally it would take thirty minutes to get from the shipyard to Geoff’s place. Jeremy managed it in fifteen.

Impatiently he punched in the code for Geoff’s front door, ripping it open the moment he was done.

The first thing he saw was Ryan lying on the couch, eyes closed. For a long horrible moment he thought that he was dead.

Then Ryan groaned loudly as Gavin tried to push a glass of water to his mouth.

“Jack said you need to water,” Gavin protested.

“Jack sucks,” Ryan mumbled, his voice breaking at the last word. Hesitating slightly Jeremy walked closer to them. A look of relief appeared on Gavin’s face when he spotted him.

“Great,” he said, pushing the glass into Jeremy’s hand. “You can take over, he is acting like a baby.”

“Am not,” Ryan mumbled, closing his eyes again. There was a bandage around his arm, slightly bloody but other than that he didn’t look much worse for wear than usual. Jeremy could feel his heart calming down. 

Gavin mumbled something under his breath that contained a lot of “bloody” and “tosser” before wandering off, leaving Jeremy alone with Ryan.

“You okay?” Jeremy asked, somewhat at a loss for words.

“Feeling fucking peachy,” Ryan said. “Got shot by a Mountie.”

“A real Mountie?”

“He was wearing the uniform.”

“You got back at him?”

“Think so, it’s kinda hard to see the blood on those uniforms.”

They fell silent again. Jeremy considered trying to get Ryan to drink something but he doubted his attempt would end any better than Gavin’s did.

“It’s a bit stupid,” Ryan then mumbled. “The red. Makes you an easy target, doesn’t it?”

Jeremy shrugged, not quite sure why they were now talking about Canadian police fashion choices. He didn’t really mind though. The worry that had been pumping wildly through him since Gavin’s messages had mellowed out, replaced by a warm feeling of relief as Ryan appeared to mostly be unharmed.

“The color is nice,” he said.

“It’s like your orange and purple,” Ryan said. “Also makes you an easy target.” He opened his eyes, staring at Jeremy with an appraising look.

“Like if I was looking at you through a scope, you’d be very easy to spot,” he then said. “Very easy for me to hit you.”

A sudden tiredness flooded through Jeremy.

“Let’s not,” he said, voice flat. “Let’s just can the stupid “I can totally kill you if I wanted to” jokes for just a bit, okay?”

Ryan stared at him confused.

“The “I’ll kill you” jokes?”

Jeremy barely suppressed the eye roll.

“Or the murder threats, whatever you want to call it. Look, don’t worry, I am super scared of you and all and I am totally aware that you can just shoot me or stab me or whatever any moment you want.”

Ryan’s mouth was slightly gaping open.

“You think I want to kill you?” he then asked. This time Jeremy did roll his eyes.

“You just said you want to take a hit out on me!”

“No, that was … that was…” For the first time since they had met, Ryan didn’t seem to know what to say. But Jeremy wasn’t really interested in letting him finish talking anyway.

“And back at my place, that thing with the knife? And before that, when you said you like seeing me tied up?”

“That wasn’t a threat!”

Jeremy glared at Ryan.

“What the hell was it then?”

And Ryan looked away suddenly.

“I wasn’t talking about taking a hit out on you,” he mumbled. “I was talking about hitting on you.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in. When they did though, Jeremy let out an unbelieving laugh.

“Sure,” he said, surprised by the bitterness tinging his words, “You absolutely were hitting on me and not talking about murdering me.”

He was waiting for Ryan to join in the laughter, to make a stupid joke and then maybe another murder threat. Nothing came though and Jeremy looked at Ryan. Ryan who was still avoiding his eyes, chewing slightly on his lower lip.

The laughter died in Jeremy’s throat.

“Wait,” he said, slowly. “Wait, you really were…”

Ryan nodded. Jeremy opened his mouth and closed it when he realized he didn’t know what to say. Ryan shifted uncomfortable, trying to sit up and wincing slightly when he moved his arm. Jeremy’s hand immediately came forward, softly pressing Ryan back into the couch.

He didn’t move his hand away from Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan looked at it for a moment, then looked at Jeremy.

“I guess my attempts at flirting didn’t quite work out?” he asked. Jeremy shook his head, suddenly feeling amused at the entire bizarre situation.

“I thought you wanted to murder me,” he said. “Your pick-up lines really need work.”

Ryan shrugged with one shoulder.

“I guess,” he mumbled. “Sorry, I didn’t … I’ll stop. Sorry.”

“I said they needed work, not that you should stop.”

Surprise light up Ryan’s eyes. Slowly Jeremy coaxed Ryan into a more comfortable position on the couch, careful with his wounded shoulder.

“Like maybe, if I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put ‘U’ and ‘I’ together.”

“That’s awful.”

“Or, we’re not socks, but I think we’d make a great pair.”

“Seriously, stop.”

“Or maybe…”

Ryan reached up, covering Jeremy’s mouth with his hand.

“Or maybe, hey Jeremy, you want to go on a date with me?”

“Or that,” Jeremy said, voice slightly muffled underneath Ryan’s hand. “That would work too.”

And Ryan couldn’t really see his smile beneath the hand but he somehow still returned it. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the knife trick Ryan is doing btw:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p5yebFrTe2A
> 
> I googled cool knife trick and it was the first thing that came up. Yeah for research!


End file.
